A hurricane wreck

John Blaich

* EDITOR’S NOTE: John Blaich is a Corona del Mar resident and

volunteer at the Newport Harbor Nautical Museum. About once a month, he

writes histories of interesting boats that graced Newport Harbor.

In 1939, Balboa was a seasonal town. One week after Labor Day, when

school started, most everyone left for their winter homes.

Shortly after this time in 1939, we experienced about 10 days of very, very hot dry weather. Schools were shut down and many manufacturing

plants closed. This was long before air conditioning. Everyone who could

headed for the beach for a cool swim in the ocean. On Sunday, Sept. 24,

many people headed out toward Catalina in their boats to cool off.

Suddenly, about 1:30 in the afternoon, a “chabasco” -- or Mexican

hurricane -- hit. Within 20 minutes, we went from a flat calm to winds of

30 to 40 miles per hour. Large ground swells also arrived with the

southeast wind. They were “humping up” and breaking in the entrance

channel between the two jetties. Sail boats, motor boats and fishing

boats all headed for the safety of Newport Harbor.

Some barely made it through the entrance. One motor cruiser capsized

with loss of life. There was a furor of activity at the harbor entrance

all afternoon. By dark, it was assumed that all of the boats had returned

to port.

About 8 p.m., as I looked out at black stormy ocean from our

oceanfront beach home on the Balboa Peninsula near F Street, I saw the

running light of a large vessel pitching and rolling as the ship made

slow headway against the wind and seas toward the harbor entrance.

It was the motor yacht Paragon. She was a 140-foot-long, twin-screw,

steel-hulled yacht built by the Bath Iron Works of Bath, Maine in 1929.

Paragon was powered with two Winton air-starting diesel engines. Owned by

staff commodore William H. Bartholomae of Newport Harbor Yacht, Paragon

was returning from Catalina. I said to myself, surely Paragon will not

try to come in.

A bit later, I heard Paragon’s air horn blasting continuously at

30-second intervals -- the international distress signal. Paragon had

tried to enter the harbor and was now in trouble.

There was a police car parked crosswise in the middle of Balboa

Boulevard at F Street to stop people from going further out on the

peninsula due to downed hot electrical wires. So I took my bike.

Using alleys, I ducked around the police car and headed for the point.

After considerable hard pedaling against the southeast wind, which was

blowing about 40 miles per hour at that time, I arrived at the point at

the corner of Ocean Boulevard and Channel Road.

No Paragon. So I coasted down Channel Road with the wind at my back.

Arriving at the juncture of Channel Road and Balboa Boulevard, I found

Paragon with her bow pushed into the sand beach and her stern underwater.

I ditched my bike at the curb and ran out on the sand in time to help

pull the yacht’s launch up high and dry on “dry sand.”

Mr. Bartholomae was assembling the crew and guests to take a head

count. All were safely ashore -- no loss of life. When Paragon arrived at

the harbor entrance, Captain Brown, the licensed captain in charge of the

ship, refused to enter the harbor.

Commodore Bartholomae, a very determined man to say the least, took

charge and headed in. Paragon surfed down a huge wave out of control. She

hit the end of the west jetty, putting a hole in the steel skin of the

ship at the port quarter. Fortunately, she rolled back clear of the

rocks. Had she fetched up on the rocks there would have been loss of

life, as there was no lifesaving boat or gear available. The waves were

rolling right over the jetty.

The chief engineer acted quickly. He went below, set both engines for

full ahead and shut all hatches and watertight doors to create an air

bubble within the hull. Paragon then came swiftly through the entrance

channel. She was beached at this first available sand beach. Paragon was

on an even heel -- upright position -- at right angles to the shoreline.

At low-tide, her bow was out of the water. The after back was barely

awash. A line was run from the bow to a stake in the sand. This legally

indicated that salvage operations were under way and no one could board

and claim salvage rights. Paragon remained in this shipwreck position for

20 days before the recovery effort began.

Case Construction Company of San Pedro took over the salvage. After an

aborted effort that resulted in Paragon sinking in deep water off the

beach, two floating derrick barges were brought from San Pedro. Paragon,

with a temporary patch over the hole, was lifted off the bottom and

pumped out. She was towed to a dry dock in San Pedro where a permanent

steel plate was welded in place.

Paragon became a water barge, U.S. Navy patrol craft PYO-36, and a

banana boat operating out of Newport Beach. She was wrecked for the

second time on Cedros Island on Nov. 24, 1949 when going to Mexico for a

cargo of bananas.